


There Is No John Watson Without Sherlock Holmes

by dixons_mama



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Depression, Drug Use, John Cannot Live Without Sherlock, John Watson Loves Sherlock Holmes, M/M, One Shot, Overdose, Post-Reichenbach, Reichenbach Falls, Sherlock Holmes's Seven Percent Solution, Suicide, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-11 22:35:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10475985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dixons_mama/pseuds/dixons_mama
Summary: After watching Sherlock jump to his death, John cannot cope.





	

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ THE TAGS! This story is sad and contains lots of possible triggers! Please be safe and DO NOT read this if it in any way may trigger you!

 John stumbled up the steps to 221B Baker street. His mind felt as though someone had filled it with tar. The only thing he could think of: Sherlock on top of St. Bart's, and then watching him jump. Feeling Sherlock's lifeless wrist drop from his hand as a bystander pulled him away. It still felt unreal. Sherlock Holmes was dead.  
 As John opened the front door, he stopped and just stood there. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do now. He was alone. Stepping into the flat, he turned and stared at Sherlock's empty chair. John felt his hands clenching into fists at his sides, and his stomach turned in knots.  
 Sliding his coat off, he didn't even bother hanging it, not caring that it lie on the floor. He kicked off his shoes and went to sit, but instead his feet carried his body directly to Sherlock's bedroom. John gingerly crawled onto the bed and rested his head on Sherlock's pillow. He curled up into a ball and let his tears finally fall.  
 As he inhaled heavily, John could smell Sherlock's scent in his pillow. The floodwall inside of him broke and he cried harder than he ever remembered. He took the pillow and held it to his body, wrapping his arms around it. John would never have the chance to hold Sherlock's body like this. He took too long, and now it was too late.  
 John could feel his body trembling, his nose running, and his eyes were puffy from crying. He couldn't stop though. How could he live without Sherlock? John barely remembered how life went before he met the consulting detective. He wasn't sure he wanted to remember. How does a person live once the love of their life was gone?   
 Sherlock died not knowing how much he meant to John. What if Sherlock secretly felt the same way towards John? Remembering how he had called Sherlock a machine, now knowing it was just a ruse to keep him safe, John felt like vomiting. He sat up quickly and ran to the bathroom. As he stood dry heaving over the toilet, he hoped for death. For some reprieve from this agonizing pain inside of him. His heart felt like it was being squeezed by an unforgiving fist.   
 John stood slowly. He knew he couldn't live like this. He left the bathroom and walked stiffly to the fireplace. Inside of the unassuming skull, was Sherlock's "secret stash". The always reliable 7% solution, John took it to the bathroom to prepare it. Once he had the entire syringe filled, John went back to Sherlock's bed to lie down.  
 Using his belt, he tied off his arm, and without a second thought injected every last drop into veins. It hit him quickly, and John smiled as he rested his head back on Sherlock's pillow.  
 "I'm coming, love." A convulsion took over John as the high dose of drugs fully hit him.   
 Greg Lastrade and Mrs. Hudson found his body later that night.


End file.
